


Inamoratos

by HaniTrash



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Remembers, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Top Bucky Barnes, Valentine's Day feels, brief suicidal thoughts (in chapter two), pre-war stucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:22:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash
Summary: inamorato: noun, plural inamoratos: a man who loves or is loved; male sweetheart or loverThere is one Universal truth: in all lifetimes, in any century, Steve Rogers loves Bucky Barnes.written for a Valentine's Day prompt on tumblr from lets-hargroove : NSFW and "Make me" ;)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 37
Kudos: 229
Collections: DarkBloodWolf13's Collection





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> check out lets-hargroove on tumblr! and many thanks to them for the prompt, I kind of ran with it and it got crazy, as per the usual for me, lol
> 
> <https://lets-hargroove.tumblr.com/>

Steve doesn’t hear Bucky until it’s too late.

Bucky was early, the neighbors were fighting again, and Steve had the radio turned up to try to drown them out. All together, the perfect combination for Bucky to slip in without Steve hearing and allow him to sneak up behind Steve to see what he was working on.

Steve wasn’t working, but was in fact simply staring at the finished product on his drawing table. At least, until Bucky’s hand appeared and snatched it up.

“Stevie, what’cha got here? Is this what I think it is?”

“Bucky! Give it back, you jerk!”

Bucky laughs and spins away, arm raised in the air as Steve leaps after him, jumping like a fool trying to reach the precious object.

“This is real nice, Steve. Looks home made,” he says, studying the heavy paper with the hand-lettered words and ornately detailed border. “ _'You’re the best fella around, that’s plain to see, I just wish you could be the fella for me’._ Aww, Stevie, you been holding out on me? You got yourself a girl and didn’t tell me? Who’s the valentine card from?”

“Give it here!” Steve grabs Bucky’s shirt—he’ll have to iron it later for him in apology, but that’s of little consequence at the moment—and tries to pull himself up Bucky’s body while his other arm tries to pull Bucky’s arm down.

“Steve, you know you’re not gonna win. C’mon, tell me! There’s no name on the back.”

“It’s not mine! Give it! Buck, you’re gonna _ruin_ it!”

“Oh, shit, Steve, is this work? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking...”

Bucky hands the card over to Steve and he clutches it to his chest as he goes back to his table. Cautiously, he sets it down to see. Some of the ink has been smudged, and the corner is wrinkled. Tears spring unbidden to his eyes and his jaw clenches.

“Oh, Stevie. I’m so sorry. Can you fix it? Is there anything I can do?”

Steve turns and shoves past Bucky, runs to the bedroom and slams the door behind him before falling face-first onto the bed. It’s stupid, it’s all so stupid, and he should have known better, but once he’d gotten the idea he hadn’t been able to let it go.

All he wanted to do was make something nice, something special for Bucky.

“Steve? Can I come in?”

He doesn’t answer, hoping Bucky will go away. But Bucky is just as stubborn as Steve, even more so when Steve is upset, so Steve isn’t surprised when he hears the door creak open.

“Steve? I’m real sorry, pal. I didn’t mean to wreck your hard work. I guess you’re not gonna get paid for that now, huh?”

Steve sniffs and turns his head enough so that his voice won’t be muffled, but keeps his eyes tightly squeezed shut so Bucky can’t see.

“’S’not...it’s not for work. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, or you wouldn’t have reacted like this. What’s going on, Steve? Talk to me.”

Steve can hear Bucky moving and cracks an eye open enough to see Bucky crouching next to the bed, bringing their faces level. He’s so close that Steve can feel the faint stirrings of air as Bucky breathes, can see the confusion clearly in his eyes and the drawing together of his brows.

“Was supposed to be a surprise. A secret.”

“Steve,” Bucky breathes, voice barely a whisper. “Did you make that for somebody?”

Bucky’s hand lands on his shoulder, warm and comforting, and Steve hates how good that feels, how much he longs for more from Bucky, because he’s not supposed to, at least not according to everyone else, but he knows guys who run around with other fellas and it always feels so good to be around them, like he doesn’t have to hide, and everyone has always called Steve a fairy anyway...

“You wouldn’t understand,” he says finally, all the fight leaving him as he simply deflates, melts into the bed, tries to hide. Because how _could_ Bucky understand? Bucky who always has a girl on his arm, who comes home with perfume on him, lips all swollen from being kissed, cheeks rosy from making time with them. The fact that Bucky seems to easily accept the idea that Steve made the card for another guy is comforting, and he’s at least a little reassured by that.

“So make me.” Bucky says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s no big deal that Steve has secretly been in love with him for as long as he can remember, like Steve doesn’t wake up hard the mornings that Bucky curls around him in his sleep, holding Steve against his big body like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

“Buck...”

Bucky’s hand slides to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair.

“Make me understand, then, Steve. Tell me.”

And there’s something in Bucky’s voice, some undercurrent of vulnerability, of uncertainty, that draws Steve to open his eyes and look at Bucky. What he sees nearly steals his breath. Bucky is breathing heavily through his mouth. His pupils have dilated, and he’s looking at Steve like he wants to devour him and is terrified at the same time. Steve feels his heart rate speed up in response. All thoughts of lying outright disappear as the weight of Bucky’s look wraps around Steve’s core. _Is it possible...?_

“I made it for you,” he whispers, the words barely audible but sounding for all the world like a bomb exploding between them. “Was going to leave it at the door, like from a secret admirer. Just wanted to make you smile, to know you were happy ‘cuz of me.”

Steve doesn’t know who moves first, but suddenly _they’re kissing_ , _he’s kissing Bucky and Bucky is kissing him back, oh my god,_ and then Steve is on his back, and Bucky’s over him, covering Steve’s body with his, and it’s everything he imagined it would be and more.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, panting for breath before his lips are on him again, and it’s Steve’s turn to gasp when he feels Bucky’s tongue swipe at his mouth, and Bucky takes that chance to _really_ kiss him, the way he’s talked about a few times, and it’s awkward because Steve doesn’t know what he’s doing but Bucky _does_ , and Steve follows his lead, trying to give as good as he’s getting as he hesitantly runs his tongue along Bucky’s teeth. Bucky moans, and damn if that doesn’t go straight through Steve, filling him with joy.

When Bucky rolls his hips against him, Steve can’t stop the whimper that comes from his throat. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s back, clinging to him tightly.

“Stevie, Stevie, _Stevie._ Tell me I’m not dreaming.”

“I could say the same.”

Bucky laughs, a breathless little giggle, as he presses small kisses against Steve’s lips before pulling back enough to see Steve fully.

“You really made that card for me?” He rests on his elbows, brushing the hair from Steve’s face, eyes full of love and voice full of wonder.

Steve blushes.

“You never said anything to me...”

“Sure, because a guy can just tell his roommate and only real friend that he thinks about him _that way_. And, you know, it’s not like I had any reason to think you’d feel the same, what with all the girls.”

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky says, in his ‘you’re an adorable idiot’ tone. “By all rights I shoulda been married three years ago. Why do you think I hung around here with you instead?”

“Thought you felt bad for me, didn’t want to leave me here all alone.”

“You got the didn’t want to leave you part right, at least. The girls are partly for show. And mostly for me pretending that I wouldn’t rather be with you.”

Steve smiles, closes his eyes and turns his head off to the side. Now that they’ve stopped kissing, he’s suddenly feeling shy and exposed, despite their positioning.

Bucky runs his nose along Steve’s jaw, kisses the pulse point on his neck.

“Bucky...what’re you...d’you know what you’re doing?”

“I’m showing you how I feel, sweetheart. Thought that part was pretty obvious.” He grinds against Steve, pressing his hard cock into Steve’s for emphasis.

“I meant— _oh_ ,” he breathes when Bucky’s hand comes between them and starts working to open Steve’s pants. “I meant with a guy,” he finishes, body arching into the touch.

“Mmm. In theory. Side effect of the neighborhood. Tried a few things once, but not all of it. Plus, I know what I _want_ to do to you, and I know how some of that feels on me, so I figure that’s a good place to start.”

Steve’s hips rise of their own accord as Bucky palms his cock and fondles his balls before he begins stroking. He stifles a moan, not wanting the sound to carry through the thin walls.

“Wait, don’t you have a date tonight with Lorraine? Don’t you need to get ready?”

Bucky freezes. He pulls his hand from Steve’s pants—his cock is already lamenting the loss—and rises above him.

“Steve. I am exactly where I should be. Where I _want_ to be. Unless _you_ want me to stop, in which case just fucking say it instead of throwing that in my face. I am fully aware of my actions and their consequences.”

Steve instantly feels like a jerk.

“’M’sorry. I just...want to make sure you wanted to. You have more options’n me, that’s all.”

“Jesus you’re fucking pig-headed sometimes, Stevie.” Bucky grabs his jaw firmly in one hand and forces his gaze back onto him, and heaven help him, it turns Steve on to have Bucky look at him like that. “Stop talkin’. And stop thinkin’, too. Turn that brain o’yours off for once and just go with it. Follow your gut. If you overthink this you’ll ruin it. We ain’t gonna have another chance to do this for the first time, and I’m gonna do this right for you like you deserve.”

“Buck...”

Bucky’s grip shifts until he’s cupping one of Steve’s cheeks and leans in for another kiss.

“I love you, punk. Been in love with you for a long time. Now shut up and lemme show you.”

“You might need to make me.”

Bucky grins, the official Barnes Charm in full effect.

“Stevie, is that your way of saying you want me to kiss you some more?”

Steve cups the back of Bucky’s head—and oh, how’s he longed to run his fingers through Bucky’s thick hair countless times—and pulls him down.

“And if it is?”

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice, sweetheart, that’s for sure.”

Bucky kisses the smile from Steve’s lips, turning the kiss into something deeper almost immediately, licking into Steve’s mouth and just _claiming_ him. Steve lets him, lifts his hips when he tugs at Steve’s pants, lets go long enough to slip out of his shirt and pull at Bucky’s clothing too. They’ve been naked together plenty of times throughout their lives, but never like this, and the anticipation thrums in Steve’s veins like a living thing.

“Gotta be careful about leaving marks on you, you’re so pale and perfect,” Bucky murmurs as he kisses down Steve’s chest. Steve feels himself flush, wants to protest the absurd notion that his body might be perfect when there is _so much_ wrong with it, but all coherent thought evaporates from his brain the moment Bucky’s _mouth_ is on his cock. He slaps his hand over his mouth, bites hard at the fleshy pad of his palm. It keeps him from crying out, but does nothing to deter the whines and moans coming from the back of his throat.

“Buck, Bucky—” Steve gasps, free hand twisting in the sheets. “Bucky, stop, I’ll, shit, I’m gonna—”

Bucky doesn’t stop, though, and Steve comes, his first orgasm ever by someone else’s doing, and he spills into Bucky’s mouth, fist lodged into his own mouth, and Bucky actually _moans_ like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. He licks and sucks and kisses Steve until Steve has to grab him by the hair and pull him off, the sensitivity and over-stimulation too much. It’s when Bucky’s body is draped over his once more that he registers the fact that Bucky’s cock is now soft.

“Buck, did you...just from... _that_?”

“Steve, if you had any idea how long I’ve wanted to do that...and the sounds you were making, all breathy and soft, and the _begging_ , sweet Jesus, Stevie, how could I not?”

Steve’s cheeks flame again, because it’s not like anyone has ever complimented him like that, or looked at him the way Bucky does now, like Steve personally set every star in the sky.

Bucky kisses him chastely, but Steve doesn’t let him go, and it’s his turn to lead the kiss as he teases his tongue against Bucky’s lips and licks in, tasting the salty-bitter tang of himself on Bucky’s tongue. He has no idea how long they lay together like that, just kissing, hands softly petting over arms and backs and shoulders and through hair, until the sound of Bucky’s stomach grumbling loudly breaks the spell.

Steve opens his eyes and is surprised to see how dark it has grown outside and turned even darker in the bedroom.

“We should probably have dinner.”

“Mmm. You’re gonna have chapped lips tomorrow and I’m not even going to feel bad about that.”

“Get off me, you big lunk. I’ll make dinner while you wash up. I love you, but you still smell like the docks and you’re gonna stink up the sheets soon. Is spaghetti okay with you? I hadn’t planned on the two of us tonight, but Mrs. DiCarlo gave me a jar of sauce and some meatballs for helping her with her shopping and washing this week.”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful.”

They separate and Steve is instantly cold from the loss of Bucky’s body. He dresses hurriedly and pulls on a sweater for good measure before heading into the kitchen. Bucky is walking around naked, since Steve had ordered him to wash up, and it proves distracting, as he nearly drops the pot of water as he brings it to the stove.

Bucky just smirks as he closes the door to the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long, and the water is just starting to boil when Bucky appears in the kitchen.

“Can I help with anything?” he asks, body pressed in close behind Steve’s, one hand curled around Steve’s waist as he sticks a finger in the sauce pot to sneak a taste.

“Set the table?” he answers without looking at Bucky. And if Steve’s voice is just a little shaky, he doesn’t comment on it.

“Sure thing.” Bucky presses a kiss to Steve’s temple before stepping away and Steve’s breath catches in his throat. It’s not like they kept their distance from each other normally, but the sudden increase in touch and open affection beyond hugs and rough-housing throws Steve for a loop.

Bucky comes over to help drain the pasta and Steve is surprised to see him wearing a nice shirt and his hair slicked back.

“What?” Bucky asks when he catches Steve staring at him.

Steve swallows around the lump in his throat.

“Did—did you change your mind about—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Steve Rogers.” Bucky sets the pot back onto the stove—maybe a little more forcefully than needed—and turns to face Steve. Steve clamps his mouth shut, but refuses to stand down as Bucky crowds into him. Instead, he holds his head high, meets Bucky’s angry glare with his own defiant one.

“If you’re about to give me hell for wantin’ to look nice for you, tonight of all nights, then maybe I just will go out, and the money I woulda spent on Lorraine I’ll spend drinking instead. And then I’ll come home and sleep on the couch, and you can spend your night alone like you’d expected to.”

Steve keeps his jaw clenched, hands in tight fists, nails digging into his palms in an attempt at keeping the tears at bay.

“Stevie,” Bucky sighs, and deflates as quickly as he’d angered. He puts his hands gently on Steve’s shoulders, presses their foreheads together. “Stevie, I _know_ you ain’t got no experience with this kinda thing, guy or gal. And I just wanna do right by you. Want to be the kind of guy you deserve, because you deserve the very best. So if you’re gonna make me dinner, I’m gonna wash up and get myself presentable. I know we have lots we’re gonna need to talk about, but for tonight, can we just pretend that none of that stuff matters? Can we just be having a nice dinner—a _Valentine’s Day_ dinner, no less—and let me pretend I’m courting you proper? Just because we been friends for forever and living together doesn’t mean that I don’t wanna make the effort. Because you’re worth it, Stevie.”

Steve feels like he’s in danger of having an asthma attack with the way his chest is heaving. Bucky is saying things to him that he’d only barely allowed himself to dream about, and never imagined could have been reality.

“Stevie, please say something. I’m sorry I said those awful things. I just got real upset when you made it sound like I didn’t want to stay. Especially after what we’ve already done today. I don’t want you to doubt yourself or what you mean to me.” Bucky moves his hands to gently cradle Steve’s face and presses a sincere kiss to his mouth. A strangled sound lodges in his throat, and he wraps his arms around Bucky, buries his face in Bucky’s chest.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe. You’re okay. I’ve got you.” Bucky holds Steve around the waist with one arm, stroking soothingly up and down his back with the other.

“Why me?” Steve finally manages to get out.

“Hmm? I can’t hear ya when you’re talking into my chest, Stevie.”

Steve turns his head, too scared and self-conscious to look at Bucky.

“Why me? Out of everyone, guy or gal. I have nothing to offer you. I get sick, I get into fights, I’m nothing to look at. We can’t even be together when we’re out of the house. Why would you saddle yourself with me?”

“What part of ‘I love you’ did you not understand? Why does the sun shine? Why does the rain fall? It just does. I love every stubborn inch of you. I love every noble ideal in your head. I love the bigness of your heart. I love you in ways that everyone says I shouldn’t, but if it feels so right, how can it be wrong?”

Steve exhales heavily and tightens his arms around Bucky.

“I love you too, Bucky.”

Bucky kisses the top of his head before ruffling his hair.

“Good. Now that that’s settled, can we eat before the pasta’s ice cold?”

Steve chuckles and pulls away enough to look up at Bucky. His eyes dart down to the dress shirt Bucky had donned.

“Can you get it on the plates? I’ll go...I’ll just freshen up quick.”

Bucky’s smile lights up his eyes, and Steve wonders how he’d ever doubted what Bucky might feel for him when it’s so clear to see on his face now.

As he makes his way back to the bedroom, Steve notices that Bucky has carefully closed the heavy curtains throughout the apartment—to help keep out the cold for Steve, ostensibly, but this is an usually warm February and Bucky has _never_ closed them so perfectly or tightly to where not even a sliver of wall or window is visible around them. The only light on is the one in the kitchen, but there is a candle lit in the living room to provide dim illumination. The reason behind it all is clear enough to Steve: they can’t chance anyone happening to glance in and see them being intimate.

Once in the bedroom, he finds an unlit candle on the side table, and one conspicuously placed tin of petroleum jelly along with a box of facial tissue. His heart stutters in his chest.

He quickly changes from the ragged sweater into a nice shirt and combs his hair. He’d never taken to the pomade the way Bucky had, but he could at least look presentable.

Dinner passes in a haze, neither of them speaking much. There wasn’t much left to be said at the moment, even though Steve’s mind was reeling with thoughts about the future and how they’d make a go of this long-term and keeping up appearances and a hundred other things that he didn’t want to bring up to spoil the night. He’d already tasted his own foot enough for one evening.

They wash and dry dishes side by side like always, but a growing sense of anticipation, hot and electric, buzzes between them. Steve doesn’t want to disappoint Bucky, and he’s got a sneaking suspicion that the longer they wait for this to happen, the more Bucky is growing concerned about hurting Steve. The truth of the matter is, while the Lord gave him a ridiculous amount of health problems, He had blessed Steve’s cock. It was almost unfair, considering that until today Steve had believed he’d never get to use it with anyone else. But if anyone is going to hurt anyone, it’ll be Steve hurting Bucky.

Plus, he’s not exactly against the idea of taking Bucky. The thought of being the source of Bucky’s pleasure is a heady feeling inside of him, and Steve doesn’t know how to convince Bucky of just how much he wants it.

Bucky gets the last dish wiped and put away and turns to Steve. The tension and hesitation is easy to see in the set of his shoulders. Steve reaches for him, holds his arms lightly.

“Hey, relax. We ain’t gotta do it all tonight if you don’t want.”

“I just don’t wanna hurt you.”

Steve gives an exaggerated roll of his eyes and sighs.

“Bucky. Don’t you trust me to say if I don’t like it or if it hurts?”

“Honestly?”

Steve can’t help but laugh at the incredulous look on Bucky’s face.

“I know, I know. I want this, Bucky. I do. I promise if it hurts I’ll tell you. Unless you want me to...?”

“I don’t know? I know I want you, Stevie. I don’t know if I want _that_ though. Not right now, at least. But I don’t think it’s completely off the table.”

“Okay. So, we figure it out. Together. We’ll take it slow.”

Bucky pulls Steve in close, one hand around his waist and the other cupping the side of his neck.

“Since when have _you_ been the voice of reason here?” he says softly, his thumb gently stroking over Steve’s jaw.

“Since when have _you_ been the one to be nervous about gettin’ into bed with someone?”

Bucky brushes his lips over Steve’s, feather light and taunting, exhilarating and not enough all at the same time.

“Since I was about to get into bed with the one person I truly wanted,” he whispers with their foreheads pressed together.

A small whine escapes Steve and he presses forward, kissing Bucky hard and desperate.

“Take me to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky _growls_ as he grabs two handfuls of Steve’s ass and the sound of it goes right through Steve and into his cock. He pulls Steve in and up, and Steve jumps, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s neck and his legs around Bucky’s waist. It’s been more than a few years since Bucky last gave him a piggy-back ride, and he’d never carried him in the front, but they manage it smoothly, without any missteps, and Bucky’s arms tighten around him as they kiss feverishly.

They fall onto the bed still entwined, and Steve feels Bucky’s desire pressed hard against his own.

“Stay,” Bucky orders as he starts to pull away. Steve lets him go reluctantly, but he’s only gone half a minute, returning to the bedroom with the candle from the living room. He uses it to light the one on Steve’s night stand before setting it down on his own. Soft, warm light fills the small room, enough for Steve to see by.

“Aww, Bucky, you getting all soft on me?”

“Ain’t nothing soft about it, sweetheart,” Bucky replies with a smirk, cupping his crotch and adjusting himself. “I wanna see you, need to see what I’m doing. Can’t have the big light on.” He covers Steve’s body with his own. “Anything feels wrong or hurts, you tell me to stop, you hear me? I want this to be good for you, sweetheart.”

“Don’t think you could ever hurt me, but I promise.” Steve’s fingers are already working at the buttons of Bucky’s shirt as he speaks. He needs to feel Bucky’s skin beneath his fingers and against his body. Soon enough, they get there, clothes tugged off and discarded into a rumpled mess that Steve will deal with tomorrow while Bucky is at work. _And the sheets,_ he thinks absently. _Gonna have to figure something out there so we’re not washing them every day._ But then Bucky’s mouth is trailing down his body again and lets his mind go blank, lost in the sensation.

“Love this body of yours, sweetheart. So delicate, yet so strong. Strong enough to keep my heart in there, too.”

“Christ, Buck, you can’t just say shit like that!” Steve sobs as tears escape him.

Bucky kisses the tears away, whispers soothing words into Steve’s ear. His cock is heavy and hot next to Steve’s, and Steve reaches down between their bodies to wrap his long fingers around them, stroking them together. It’s a bit dry and rough, but that doesn’t stop the groan coming from Bucky’s throat or the thrust of his hips as he rocks into Steve’s hold.

“ _Oh,_ ” Bucky breathes into Steve’s neck. “Oh, sweetheart, that feels so good.” He thrusts into Steve’s fist a few more times before he forces out a ragged breath. “S _top, sweetheart._ I wanna be in you when—”

Steve drops their cocks as if they’re hot coals, because just the thought of that nearly pushes him over the edge.

“Yes, _yes_ Bucky, _please._ ” He turns his head to find the tin of jelly and grabs it, shoves it against Bucky’s chest. “Do it.”

Bucky chuckles softly.

“Easy, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” He takes the tin and sets it down next to Steve’s hip, pops the lid off with one hand, and gets a tiny bit onto one fingertip.

“Buck, c’mon, that’s not—”

“Hush. Trust me, Stevie.”

“But— _oh_ , that’s nice...”

Bucky’s finger traces slowly around the outside of Steve’s hole, tickling as he rubs the jelly over his skin but doesn’t try to push inside.

“Gotta get you ready, sweetheart. Loosen you up.”

Bucky goes back for more jelly, this time dipping the tip of his finger inside Steve without any preamble.

“Breathe, Stevie. Relax.”

“More,” he exhales. “Oh god, Bucky, more.” Steve squirms, tries to work himself onto Bucky’s finger, pull him deeper.

“Always in a hurry,” Bucky says against his lips as he pushes his finger in to the knuckle, swallowing Steve’s gasp. “Good?” he asks, moving his finger ever-so-slightly as he checks in with Steve.

“Yes, oh, _oh_ that feels nice.” Bucky slowly worked his finger in and out, gentle but steady, the sensation pleasant. Steve had been poked and prodded over every inch of his body with all the doctor and hospital visits he’d had in his life, had even had rectal exams on more than one occasion. But they’d _never_ felt like this, so intimate and arousing. “Oh, _Bucky,_ ” he breathes.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Oh, yes. More, please, _please_.”

Bucky withdraws his hand and reaches for the jelly again, dragging his middle finger through it and rubbing his fingers together to coat them before returning to press at Steve’s entrance.

Steve tries to watch Bucky’s face, wants to see him, but can’t stop his head from sinking into the pillow or his back from arching off the mattress as he digs his fingers into Bucky’s shoulders, or the wanton moan that works itself free of Steve’s throat.

“God, Stevie, if you could see yourself...” Bucky’s voice is strained, and when Steve lifts his head he can see Bucky’s heavy breathing and his tightly clenched jaw and realizes that he’s barely maintaining his control. Steve moves a hand from Bucky’s shoulder to grab the back of his head and pull him down into a fierce kiss. Bucky’s body rocks in time with his hand, rutting against Steve’s thigh as his fingers fuck Steve’s ass and his tongue fucks Steve’s mouth.

Then Bucky twists his wrist, crooks his fingers as he drags them out, and Steve’s body jerks as he sees stars.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Steve wrenches Bucky’s hand from where it covers his mouth—he didn’t even realize that he’d cried out, but he must have if Bucky was quieting him.

“Again!” Steve manages to gasp. “Oh holy shit, do that again with your fingers.”

Bucky rests on his elbow, hand lightly over Steve’s mouth in anticipation, and moves his fingers inside Steve, seeking out the spot that he’d hit.

“There!” he cries, and Bucky massages his fingers in place.

“This right here?”

Steve can’t speak, whines in response, turns his head and smothers himself with Bucky’s pillow to muffle his cries as he pants and writhes, Bucky’s fingers turning Steve’s insides to liquid fire.

“You gonna come again, sweetheart? You want to?”

“Fuck! I—no, stop, wait, please.” Steve is trembling, on the verge of an earth-shattering orgasm from _whatever_ Bucky was just doing, but he wants to come with Bucky inside him, and doesn’t see how he could go a third time for the day, let alone get hard again right away so Bucky wouldn’t have to wait for him.

“Stevie?” Bucky has gone still as he waits for Steve, but thankfully he hasn’t removed his hand. Steve clenches around Bucky’s fingers and Bucky groans. “Sweetheart, you gotta talk to me here, please.”

Steve pulls the pillow off his face and looks at Bucky.

“I was definitely very close. But I want you inside me for the next one. Don’t think I could do another tonight.”

Bucky exhales heavily and drops his head to Steve’s chest, where his heart is still beating frantically.

“Probably a good idea. I’m not sure I would have been able to hold off if I’d watched you come from my fingers in your ass.”

“We can definitely start with that next time, though.”

Bucky laughs and slides up to kiss Steve briefly.

“Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Right now I want your cock in me.”

“ _Jesus_ , Steve. Have mercy on a guy, would ya? How can I make this good for you if I go off two seconds into it, what with you talking like that and all?”

Steve grins like a fool, elated to know that he’s having this kind of an effect on Bucky.

“Fucking punk,” Bucky says, kissing him again. He shifts his body over Steve as they kiss, and Steve spreads his legs wider in accommodation, though Bucky makes no move to switch out his fingers for something else. Instead, he starts moving them again—although avoiding that spot that drove Steve so wild before—and speaks.

“Sweetheart, it’s, um, it’s easier if you get up on all fours,” Bucky says hesitantly. Steve immediately shakes his head.

“Uh-uh. No way. I want to see you.”

“Okay, then, you gotta raise your hips up. Put the pillows under you.”

“Bucky Barnes, who you been talking to about this? You seem to know an awful lot for saying you haven’t done this before.”

The light is dim, but they are close enough for Steve to see the blush spread across Bucky’s cheeks.

“I—I asked one of the guys at the docks. I trust him. He—he’s got a guy, small like you, only a couple of us know about it, and—”

“Jesus, Buck, how long you been working on trying to say something to me?”

“I dunno. Years.”

“God you’re dense.”

“Yeah, I know. Now give up those pillows.”

Bucky slides his fingers out and Steve instantly feels empty at the loss. He lifts his hips to get the pillows under him, and as he does, he sees Bucky stroking himself, slicking up with some jelly.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect. How are you mine?”

Bucky shuffles in closer to Steve, lines himself up, pauses as he presses the head of his cock against the ring of muscle.

“I’ve always been yours, Stevie.”

And then he’s pushing in, one hand on Steve’s hip, one on his cock, and it’s more than his two fingers had been so there’s some resistance, a slight stretch and burn, but it’s not bad.

“Keep going, I’m okay,” Steve gasps, and Bucky continues the excruciatingly slow pace until he’s got both hands on Steve’s hips and he’s about halfway in.

“More, don’t stop, it’s good.”

Bucky’s eyes are closed and he’s trembling.

“Wait,” he croaks out. “You—fuck, you feel amazing. Jesus, Steve.”

Steve places his hands on Bucky’s forearms, holds him tightly.

“So do you, Bucky,” he says softly, and gets a groan in response. Bucky’s eyes open, and he holds Steve’s gaze as he slides the rest of the way in, until Steve has to close his eyes and remind himself to just breathe when he feels the warmth of Bucky’s body pressed tight against his thighs.

“Okay?”

“Very.”

Bucky gives a half-laugh, one corner of his mouth curling in a smile before he drags his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Gonna move now, sweetheart.”

“Please.”

Bucky pulls out slightly, rocks back in gently, slowly increasing the pace and the length of his thrusts.

“ _Oh my god, so good, Bucky, so good..._ ”

“ _Jesus, Steve, just amazing, god..._ ”

Steve shifts his legs up higher, wraps them around Bucky’s waist, and they groan in unison at the new angle. Bucky falls forward, one hand on the mattress next to Steve’s head, the other wrapped around the back of one of Steve’s thighs as his thrusts increase in strength. Steve wraps his hands around the back of Bucky’s head, one gripping his neck tightly, the other in his hair. It doesn’t take long for them to find a good rhythm, and Bucky’s breathing grows increasingly ragged.

“Stevie, please, I’m so—I wanna wait for you, but—”

Steve drops a hand between them, and Bucky’s gaze follows, a whispered “ _fuck_ ” falling from his lips as he watches Steve jerk himself furiously.

“Bucky, Bucky, fuck, god, yes, I love you, I love _—ffffff—”_ his words are cut off as his body tenses, ass clamping down around Bucky as he comes, and _fuck_ if that isn’t a hell of a feeling, and then Bucky is crying out, his teeth clamped down on Steve’s shoulder to stifle his shouts as _he_ comes, and Steve can feel his cock pulsing inside him as they gasp and pant, bodies locked together.

“Stevie, fuck, oh my god, I love you, love you so much sweetheart,” Bucky says as he kisses him, the both of them still breathless as they cling to one another in a filthy, sweaty mess.

“Don’t you dare move,” Steve admonishes, tightening his legs when Bucky tries to pull back.

“Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I’m perfectly content right like this for another minute. Stay.”

“Yes sir.”

Steve grins into the kiss, which has turned soft and sweet as their breathing has settled back to normal.

“That was amazing,” he says.

“Agreed. You swear I didn’t hurt you?”

“Did it sound like I was in pain?”

Bucky laughs, kisses Steve again, and lifts his head enough to be able to see him.

“I love you. But we’re going to have two disgusting pillows in a minute if you don’t let me move and get those Kleenex.”

Bucky presses a tissue against Steve as he pulls out, and Steve slides forward as he tugs the pillows out from underneath him. He reaches for another tissue to clean the come from his stomach when he feels Bucky’s tongue on him instead.

“ _Jesus,_ Bucky.”

“Sweetest dessert I ever had, honey.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve scoffs.

They settle beneath the blankets and Bucky pulls Steve in tight against him, tucks Steve’s head against his chest.

“Stevie?” he asks, fingers absently toying with Steve’s hair.

“Hmm?”

“Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart.”


	2. Chapter 2

Steve doesn’t hear Bucky until it’s too late.

Not that he’d have tried to stop him anyway.

Still, he wakes in the middle of the night to the sound of slight movement beside his bed, and before he can reach for the light he’s pinned down with a blade pressed to his throat, a hand over his mouth, and a weight across his hips.

He immediately relaxes his body when his eyes land on Bucky’s face. It’s an image that had been burned into his brain in far less light than what filters in from the streetlight through the open curtains of his window—memories from a cramped apartment and candlelight, from a tiny tent and the pitch black of the front, from the moonlight through a hotel window in London.

“No sudden movements or this slices your jugular, understood?”

Steve swallows, feels the pressure increase on the skin of his neck, and nods slightly. He holds his hands out, palms up, fingers splayed open. Bucky removes his hand from Steve’s mouth.

“Not smart to sleep with the window open and unarmed.”

“Do I have a reason to be concerned for my safety?”

“You did just assist in exposing HYDRA to the world. Pretty sure there’s a few pissed off operatives out there who’d happily put a bullet or three in you. Not to mention me.”

“Are you putting yourself into the threat to me category, or threat to HYDRA category?”

Bucky moves lightning fast, the knife at his throat slamming into the pillow only millimeters from his ear in the blink of an eye. Steve flinches only slightly, and is proud of himself for that. He’s less proud of how much that turned him on.

“It _should_ be both. You are—were—my mission. I have never failed a mission. Until _you_.” The action had caused a shift in Bucky’s body, bringing him forward over Steve. He could easily reverse their positions, but that would be counter-productive to his goal of Bucky staying and talking to him, maybe even staying outright and letting Steve help him. Plus his hand was still on the knife, and Steve knew firsthand how skilled he was with that weapon.

“And now?” he asks, when Bucky remains silent and doesn’t elaborate.

“Now…I can feel you. Inside here,” Bucky says, tapping at the side of his head. “I’ve spent months. Doing research. Memories returning. Things I’ve done, things they made me do…but not you. It’s like they tried extra hard to burn you outta my head. And maybe, everything will come back in time. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About what I don’t remember. I go to the museum and stare at our pictures and read the words but that’s all they are—pictures and words. And they just feel _wrong_. Incomplete. And it’s just so damned frustrating!”

Bucky rips the knife from the pillow and embeds it into a picture Steve has taped on the wall. It’s one he drew, of Bucky, asleep on the couch in their apartment with a book in his hands.

“I should be able to remember _that_!” he cries.

“Bucky,” Steve whispers, trying desperately to not cry.

“Tell me. Tell me what you are to me. Why do I feel like my entire life is missing every time I look at even just a picture of you?”

“I…it’s…there’s so much. No easy way to explain it. I... The way I feel about you, Bucky. The way you used to feel about me... The way we were." Steve's voice breaks as he simply deflates, melts into the bed, tries to hide. Because how could he hope that Bucky would understand? Bucky who has always been his guiding compass. Who he feels so much more than love for. The fact that Bucky doesn't remember him, doesn't know him, is staring at him with those blank eyes that should be filled with love, it's more than he can take. Bucky is here, and he knows he should be at least a little reassured by that, but he can't bring himself to feel anything but terror at losing Bucky again and it's more than he can cope with. “You wouldn’t understand.”

The tears are flowing freely now, because _fuck_ HYDRA. Fuck them for saving Bucky, only to tear him away from Steve. Fuck the whole goddamned world, because how is Steve supposed to go on with Bucky alive but not his? He can’t. He won’t. He’ll find a better way this time. Things had been fine, he’d been surviving, moving on. But not now. Not since that moment Bucky’s mask had come off as they’d fought. Now Steve’s heart beat only for one purpose again: Bucky. He’d always been Steve’s entire world, the reason he’d fought through every bout of flu, every round of pneumonia, every damned Nazi he could find. 

Bucky’s hand slides to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut and shudders. Of course his brain happily supplies memories of their very first time, all those years ago. It is February, Bucky is alive but lost, so it’s only natural that he’d been dreaming about it, about Bucky, every night since he’d woken in the hospital after the helicarrier. Bucky had held him in much the same way after Steve had said those exact words. _You wouldn’t understand._

“Make me understand, then, Steve. Tell me.”

And there’s something in Bucky’s voice, some undercurrent of vulnerability, of uncertainty, that draws Steve to open his eyes and look at Bucky. He’s looking at Steve like he wants to devour him and is terrified of him at the same time. Steve gives in to the emotion, to the need, to the memory, and surges up, closing the scant space between them and then _they’re kissing_ , _he’s kissing Bucky again and it’s real and Bucky is kissing him back, oh my god,_ and then Steve is pushed back down, and Bucky’s over him, covering Steve’s body with his, and it’s everything he remembered it to be and more.

“Steve,” Bucky gasps, panting for breath before his lips are on him again, and it’s Steve’s turn to gasp when he feels Bucky’s tongue swipe at his mouth.

“Steve, I—god, this feels so right. Please tell me this is right. Please don’t ask me to stop.”

Bucky rolls his hips against him, and Steve can’t stop the whimper that comes from his throat. He wraps his arms around Bucky’s back, clinging to him tightly, trying to feel the solidity of his body through his hoodie, convince himself that this is real.

“ _Stevie_. Tell me I’m not dreaming. Tell me this is us, how we were. That this is why they took you from me.” He rests on his elbows, brushing the hair from Steve’s face, eyes full of love and voice full of wonder.

“Yes,” Steve answers, voice cracking, as if the single word could encompass the entirety of what they were.

Bucky runs his nose along Steve’s jaw, kisses the pulse point on his neck.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. But you don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

Bucky pulls back and looks Steve dead in the eyes.

“For the first time since I woke up in a room surrounded by Nazi scientists and missing an arm, I’m doing something _I_ want to do. I _want_ to be here. I _want_ to touch you. Unless…unless you don’t want me to. Unless you’ve got a new fella…?”

“You’re the only fella for me, Buck,” Steve says softly, hand resting gently on Bucky’s cheek.

“’ _You’re the best fella around…’_ ,” Bucky starts, hesitant, brows drawn together and head tipped to the side in confusion.

Steve’s heart stutters, lodges in his throat, and he can only nod his head encouragingly.

“Get this off!” Bucky suddenly demands sharply, pulling at the blanket Steve is still trapped under. He rises from the bed and whips everything off in one fast jerk of his arm, chest heaving as he eyes Steve’s body. Between the serum making him run hot and the advancements in modern textiles (not to mention his ability to afford the higher quality items), he sleeps only in his boxers these days. The sudden rush of cold air raises goosebumps over his skin, nipples hardening from both the cold and a heavy dose of lust.

Steve’s hips rise of their own accord as Bucky climbs back onto the bed, straddles Steve’s legs, palms his cock and fondles his balls through the cotton. Steve’s interest in the events is clear, his cock hard, tenting his shorts.

“Bucky, Bucky _please_ ,” he gaps.

“Hush, punk. I’m try’na think here. Things’re coming at me fast, but only pieces. It’s like I got only half a puzzle and no picture to follow. I don’t—don’t wanna hurt you.” His fingers trail over the smooth skin of Steve’s abdomen. “I shot you…” He covers Steve’s shoulder with his other hand. “Stabbed you…”

“It’s all healed, Bucky. I’m fine. And that wasn’t you.”

Bucky exhales harshly, lifts his eyes to Steve’s, and there are tears in those steel-grey depths.

“I’m so sorry, Stevie. I tried to stop, I did.”

“You saved me. You’re here now. That’s all that matters. I forgive you.”

Bucky’s mouth works as he swallows, like he’s trying to decide on what to say in response, but instead he groans softly, lifting his hand from Steve’s shoulder to press the heel of his palm against his left eye.

“Buck?” Steve start to sit up, but before he can get a hand onto Bucky’s arm, Bucky is moving again. He pushes Steve back down and follows him, kissing along Steve’s neck and working his way down Steve’s chest.

“Seem to remember these being extra sensitive,” he murmurs, before teasing the tip of his tongue around a nipple.

Steve _whines_ in the back of his throat and Bucky chuckles, closes his mouth around the hard bud and sucks. Steve’s cock jerks and his hands scramble for purchase on Bucky’s back. He’s momentarily startled when he encounters fabric and not skin because he’d forgotten that Bucky had yet to shed his own clothing. He gathers the material in his fists and pulls up.

“Need to feel you,” Steve practically begs.

Bucky lifts up and swiftly removes the hoodie, tosses it aside without a second thought. Steve eyes the utility belt he’d somehow missed, one eyebrow cocked in silent question at the handles he can see sticking out of it.

“Listen, I came here only with a few knives, not guns. Call that a win and take it, okay?”

Steve remains silent as he watches Bucky remove the belt and place it on the night stand, then pauses with his hands on the hem of his long-sleeved shirt.

“Steve…”

Steve’s eyes quickly travel over Bucky’s body, lingering on his metal arm. There are a million questions that he hopes to ask one day, but none of them matter right now.

“It’s okay, Bucky. You don’t have to. You can leave it on if you want.”

Bucky takes a deep breath.

“It’s kinda funny. I feel like I don’t give a single shit what anyone thinks about how I look, but I care a whole hell of a lot what you think. And I can’t even say for sure why just yet.”

Steve covers Bucky’s hands with his own.

“Do I feel guilty that you lost your arm, lost so many years of your life to HYDRA because of me? Yes. That’s something we’ll have to work on together. Right now, all I care is that you are here. It’s your decision if you want to take this off or not. I won’t make you.”

“I…I don’t know if this makes any sense at all, but I feel like I need to be _seen_. Like I need someone to acknowledge me, my existence, just _me_ and not the Soldier. Hiding behind clothing means letting HYDRA win and still keep me from you.”

Steve rolls them, slowly, letting Bucky see clearly what he was doing, not wanting him to feel caged or trapped. Bucky allows Steve to move him onto his back, and Steve very consciously places his legs between Bucky’s, not over them.

“You asked me to make you understand. Make you remember what we were to each other. So let me do that. Let me show you, Buck.”

“Pretty sure this went the other way around…” Bucky says softly as Steve works his pants open and pulls them down, removing another knife wordlessly from his calf as he gets his boots off and the lower half of Bucky’s body naked.

“Hush. Just relax and _feel_. Try not to over-think it. If you need me to stop I will without question.”

Steve vaguely wonders where Bucky got the clothing, but it fits and he’s clean, and so are the clothes. In fact, he’s in much better condition overall both physically and mentally than Steve had dared to hope. Whatever they’d given him, whatever version of the serum Zola had managed to recreate, it seemed to have been enough to overpower, at least to some extent, much of the brainwashing they’d done.

He kisses his way up one of Bucky’s legs, noting new scars on his thigh but ignoring them, focused only on Bucky’s pleasure. Bucky sighs softly when Steve licks teasingly at the junction of his thigh, pushes the shirt up just enough to nip at his hip bone and work his way across Bucky’s abdomen to the other side and kiss his way back down to his inner thighs.

“Stevie, we ain’t got all day, one of the guys’ll be back soon, we ain’t home, punk…”

Steve takes a deep breath, steadies himself, recalls with unfailing detail the memory that Bucky has fallen into of them during the war.

“Where’s the slick, then, Barnes? I can multi-task and open myself while I suck you off a bit.”

“It’s…” Bucky reaches under the pillow and opens his eyes, looks around when his hand comes up empty. Steve slowly strokes Bucky’s cock as he watches and waits. “Tell me you got somethin’ here, ‘cuz I need to be inside you, babydoll,” Bucky says after a second, voice rough.

The air punches out him as Steve leans in to kiss Bucky. It’s messy and needy, and Bucky’s hand grasps Steve’s ass tight enough to bruise. Steve breaks the kiss to lunge for the nightstand at the far side of the bed. In his urgency, he pulls too hard on the drawer and it falls to the floor, spilling its contents everywhere.

“Goddamn it!” he curses as he leans over the edge of the bed to swat the various plugs and dildos out of the way to get the bottle of lube. Before he can push himself back up onto the bed, he feels Bucky’s weight on his legs. Hands pull his cheeks apart roughly and suddenly Bucky’s face is buried in his ass, tongue diving into his hole without warning.

“Bucky!” Steve gasps, bracing his hands against the floor to keep himself from being pushed off the bed.

Bucky growls into Steve and shoves a finger inside, stretching him open to drive his tongue in further, teeth dragging along the rim and stubble rubbing the sensitive skin raw. The first time he’d done this Steve had come embarrassingly quickly, and it has been so long since anyone has touched him intimately that he’s in danger of a repeat performance.

“Give it to me, sweetheart,” Bucky commands, lifting his head away and adding a second finger. “I know you can go more than once since the serum.” His fingers unerringly find Steve’s prostate in short order, and damn if that’s not some sort of muscle memory coming back Steve doesn’t know what to call it. During the war, they’d mastered getting each other off at least once, and usually more than that for Steve, within ten minutes, and it seemed Bucky was intent on repeating at least that part of those memories.

“Come on, Stevie. Let me have it. Come for me. I want to feel you. You close, babydoll? I know you are, I can feel you, your whole body is shaking. Come, baby. Come for me.” Metal fingers tighten over his hip, and teeth dig into the curve of his ass just above his thigh. Steve screams as he comes, arms trembling as he struggles to keep from collapsing while Bucky continues to work his hand, pushes Steve through the overstimulation.

“Please!” he cries.

“You find that slick, sweetheart?”

Steve makes a noise of agreement.

“Then get this ass in the air and hand it over, babydoll.”

Steve reaches blindly behind himself and drops the lube onto the bed before grabbing hold of the edge and pushing himself back up.

“Hmm. This is better’n what we used to have, huh? Feels more slippery.”

He gets himself propped up on all fours on the bed and Bucky’s fingers return, this time cool and covered in lube.

“Mmm, yeah, look at that. Slides right in real nice.”

Steve groans at the stretch, because where there had been two before, Bucky has gone straight to three fingers this time. He gives Steve only a few perfunctory strokes before he pulls his hand away and presses his cock in.

“ _Oh, y_ _ou—fuck, you feel amazing. Jesus, Steve._ ”

“Bucky, Bucky, oh god _please_ ,” Steve begs.

“ _Fuck_ it’s a good thing we didn’t have slick like this or I’d have never stopped fucking you, _Jesus_ sweetheart, oh my _god_.” Bucky’s words are coming almost as fast as his hips are moving, and it doesn’t take long before Bucky groans, hands bruisingly tight on his hips, as he stills, cock pulsing inside Steve as he comes.

“Sweet _Christ_ I really don’t think I’ve come since the last night I fucked you before the train. Fuck. Over, babydoll.” Bucky pulls out and taps against Steve’s hip, turns him onto his back, and pushes back in. “There we go.”

Steve reaches up for him and Bucky leans into the kiss, rolls his hips as he does, swallows the moans from Steve’s lips.

“Bucky, oh god, I missed you so much, I love you, I love you…”

“Stevie, baby, never leaving you again, I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He reaches between them, stroking Steve as he bends him back, pace still rushed, frantic, desperate as Bucky drives into him.

“Oh, _oh_ , Bucky, I’m going—oh _god_!” His second orgasm catches him by surprise and he gasps, digs his fingers into Bucky’s back, and Bucky follows him moments later, like he always does when they’re face to face like this, so close that they’re sharing air and joined by lips and hands and arms and legs, as much of their bodies touching as possible.

They catch their breath and Steve can feel that Bucky is still hard inside him. He clenches and Bucky grins and rocks his hips slightly.

“Got my own serum now, babydoll. And what, almost eighty years to make up for?”

Steve groans, even as he moves with Bucky.

“I don’t think I could heal from that overnight, jerk.”

Bucky laughs softly as he moves back. He keeps his hands on Steve’s hips and pulls him along as he settles onto his knees, sitting on his heels and guiding Steve’s legs around his hips.

“That might be a bit much, agreed. But I know you can do more still. And I need more of you, babydoll. You can do this. It’s just like with the pillows when you were small.”

Steve’s breath catches in his throat at Bucky’s words.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, smiling wide. “Turns out fucking you is bringing _lots_ of things back. But it’s a lot, all at once. I need a distraction, sweetheart. Something to keep me from getting’ overwhelmed. Can you help me with that? Can I keep making you feel good, keep focusing on you, while my brain settles?”

Damn Bucky Barnes and that charm. Of _course_ that part was back in full force already. Steve could barely say no to Bucky for anything on a good day, but this? Cajoling him like this? _Especially_ when he was balls deep inside of Steve, dragging his cock over his prostate, wringing yet another orgasm out of him?

“That’s a dirty trick, Barnes. You know I ain’t gonna say no anyway,” Steve manages once his brain comes back online. He notices Bucky breathing heavily, can see his pulse racing, and realizes that Bucky has come again also.

“Come up here, babydoll. Want to watch you ride me.”

Steve makes a token noise of protest as he allows Bucky to pull him up until he’s sitting on Bucky’s lap. He’d loved this position before the serum, and after, it had helped him to take Bucky as hard as he wanted without fear of tiring Bucky out.

“Be gentle with me, sweetheart,” he says softly, threading his fingers through Bucky’s hair and holding it back from his face.

“Always,” Bucky answers, feathering his lips over Steve’s jaw.

Steve makes a noise high in his throat as Bucky starts moving, sliding easily through the mix of lube and come slipping out of Steve with each thrust. He braces his hands on Bucky’s shoulders and tries to slow the pace.

“Seriously. I haven’t been with anyone since you fell. And my toys ain’t exactly the same thing.”

“Oh, _sweetheart_.”

“Told you, it’s only ever been you for me.”

Bucky pulls him down for a kiss, this one soft, gentle, nearly worshipful in it’s tenderness.

“One more, babydoll. You can do that for me, right?” he asks between kisses, teeth grazing along the column of Steve’s neck, biting down over his collar bone, sucking a mark just beneath his ear.

Steve groans, lets his body go limp against Bucky’s chest, and holds on as Bucky works his hips, hands on Steve’s waist, moving him as he wants, taking what he wants from Steve.

Despite their position, it’s soft, gentle, sweet, unhurried in a way they hadn’t been since before Bucky had shipped off to the damned war. He feels the familiar tension coiling in his core, and tightens his arms, buries his face in Bucky’s neck. It takes a minute for him to realize that the begging and pleading is coming from his own mouth.

“Shh, I’ve got you Stevie, I’ve got you. Go ahead, babydoll. Let go. I’ll catch you.”

The orgasm tears through Steve, and the last thing he registers is Bucky crying out his name as Steve drifts away.

He wakes some time later to find himself in Bucky’s arms. He’s been cleaned up, and they’re curled together under the blankets. At some point Bucky had removed his shirt, and Steve splays his hand across Bucky’s chest over his heart. There’s more chest hair than he remembers, and he flexes his fingers rhythmically, enjoying the feel of it tickling his skin.

“Hey, sweetheart. There you are,” Bucky says, smiling, and presses a kiss to his forehead.

“Hey yourself. You’re still here.”

“’Course I’m still here, babydoll. Ain’t no place in the world I’d rather be than with you.”

Steve sighs happily and burrows into Bucky’s embrace.

“Hey Stevie?” Bucky asks, fingers combing absently through Steve’s hair.

“Mmm?”

“Think you could make me understand some more tomorrow night, too?”

Steve laughs, but his expression is serious when he tears his attention from Bucky’s chest and the scars he’s steadfastly ignoring to lift his head enough to meet Bucky’s eyes.

“I’ll make you understand what you mean to me every night for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me.”

“Well, that sounds just fine to me, sweetheart.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a good amount of intentional repetition here in the beginning, in words/phrases/actions between the first chapter and this one--because this is basically their second first time, and they are both reliving that memory while these events happen, and they are mirroring those actions in the present.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr!
> 
> <https://hanitrash.tumblr.com/>
> 
> also, check out my published stuff? pretty please?
> 
> [https://www.amazon.com/Loralynne-Summers/](https://www.amazon.com/Loralynne-Summers/e/B00RC8DGGS?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_1&qid=1577730376&sr=8-1)


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